


When You're Making Plans

by cmcross



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 14:18:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/419829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmcross/pseuds/cmcross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This was not part of the plan, John."</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You're Making Plans

_This was not part of the plan._

These are John Watson's thoughts as his feet touch down on the cold floor. He glances back at the bed as he picks up his clothes and scurries from the room. Minutes later he slips out the door and hails a cab.

Surgery goes fine. It's a routine day by all standards. Screaming children, noncompliant teenagers, and forgetful elderly; one broken wrist and three colds.

And yet, somehow, the whole world has changed. _Is_ changing. He doesn't feel different, exactly, but then again he does. He's still John Watson. He still takes his coffee with no sugar, still wears jumpers, and still refuses to talk to his sister. He still works at surgery and he still rents a flat with Sherlock Holmes.

But he's lighter now. In one night his muscles have been replaced with sunlight and his soul with the summer breeze. He moves with all the gentleness and beauty of those elements and you would not have found a fool in all of England who didn't see it.

He's more John Watson now than in all the thirty-three years before. He's John Watson as John Watson should have been.

And he thinks, for a moment, that this must be what reincarnation is like.

He leaves the hospital, his feet barely touching the ground as he goes, and picks up Chinese on the way home. He lets himself in, taking the steps two at a time, and smiles when he sees Sherlock standing in the living room, eyes dark with worry.

Worry. Anxiety. Regret…no. Not regret. Fear. Fear of rejection. He watches all these things dance behind those bright blue eyes and feels his breath leave him in a rush.

He takes in the view, catalogs every detail of this force of nature before him, this being who has altered his perception of reality so drastically, and feels the warm blush of happiness settle into his bones.

The Chinese drops to the floor when they kiss.

He sighs.

Sherlock relaxes.

The next morning, before his feet touch the cool floor again, he feels a hand brush against the scars on his shoulder. "This wasn't part of the plan, John," his flatmate says.

He presses his lips to a very prominent cupids bow and decides that he'll spend the rest of his life making sure Sherlock knows how very happy he is that all their plans for staying at a distance have failed.

He pulls away and whispers, "It's all fine."

Life, after all, is what happens when you're busy making other plans.


End file.
